


Versicolor

by gyunikum



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, retro-futurism and neon lights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7478469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyunikum/pseuds/gyunikum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two colors dominate Jaehwan's reality, forever bound together, but he makes sure they never mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Versicolor

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the line "swimming in neon" from a song
> 
> i listened to [this ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aCi7NMOSUic) song while writing, and a bunch of other tracks from the miami hotline 2 soundtrack.
> 
> warning: mentions of blood, violence and death.

Sometimes, when Jaehwan misses small moments of his life for not paying enough attention, when he resurfaces, he would find Hongbin swimming in the neon lights that flood their dark bedroom— blue hues and purples, vibrant pinks and verdant greens ripple on the floor like a river, crawling up the walls, and covering their bodies every time Jaehwan kicks off the blanket in his sleep, usually pooling at the feet of the bed and just outside of their reach.

Jaehwan would wake up to the sweat of humid summer nights cooling off on his back as the air-conditioner turns itself on for a few minutes, breathing cold air onto them with a whirr, and Jaehwan would shiver— not at the drop in the temperature of the apartment, but at the sight.

Because when he turns towards the large windows, blinds forgotten open once again— Hongbin would glow in the neon lights, his skin painted in the cavalcade of colors, a whole spectrum washing over his motionless frame.

The shadows on his body would shift with each breath he takes and exhales, loud and deep— the colors would spill from Hongbin’s open lips, down his chin and thick neck, pooling in the pit between his collarbones before it would overflow and coat the hills of his chest and the ridges of his abdominal muscles, down, down, over his stomach and navel, seeping into the material of his loose briefs, and cascading off his legs like a waterfall.

His sharp cheekbone is always a sharp contrast against the darkness of the bedroom— and Jaehwan is never awake or strong enough not to lift his lazy hand and press the pads of his fingers to Hongbin’s face, following the line that Jaehwan sees, from the edge of his eyebrows, bumping against his cheek and then down his square jaw to his chin—he would always end his tour at Hongbin’s glossy lips, swiping his thumb over them softly, only to lean above him carefully and press his own lips to Hongbin’s, softly, not to wake him.

The night outside is all bark no bite, quiet but bright— lambent and vivid, even the sky is, an endless canvas for the neon lights that illuminate the sleeping city. Hongbin is, like that, a mirror to the outside world, though a more idealistic version of it.

Jaehwan doesn’t know how the both of them can just fall asleep in this brightness, but each time he wakes up at these small hours and sees Hongbin bathing in the colors, he thanks his past self for always forgetting to close the blinds— it’s a sight that he could never get enough of, and he would stare at Hongbin, as creepy as it sounds in his head, for the rest of the night.

He usually does, before his lids become heavy, and he’s pushed back into his dreams of colorful streaks and explosions.

Tonight, however, his phone’s screen flickers to life as the device begins to buzz on the bedside table, disrupting the silence. Before Jaehwan can even turn around, the phone goes silent, as if sensing Jaehwan’s spike of anger— he doesn’t want anything to wake Hongbin.

It’s a text.

_They’re heading your way. Four of them._

Jaehwan exhales quietly, biting into his lip— he thought he’d have some more time, but he’s expected somewhere else, no matter how alluring the sight behind him is.

If he doesn’t go, he’ll lose everything he has in this small apartment— his safe haven, along with Hongbin’s embrace.

The gun’s grip on his palm feels like relief, fitting into his hand like two pieces of a puzzle. He’s part of two different ones at the same time, but to continue on with what he has with Hongbin, he has to take care of some things. One cannot exist without the other, but they must never meet.

Another message comes while Jaehwan is pulling on a pair of pants, only for the sake of decency— he would go outside dressed in his sleep wear, but he doesn’t want to explain the splatters of spilled blood to Hongbin in the morning.

_I took care of the back-up. Good luck with the others. Oh, and you owe me big time._

Jaehwan snorts as his shrugs on his jacket. He snatches the phone from the kitchen aisle where he’s set it, and types in a quick reply.

 _Thanks Taekwoonie._ He hits send and slips the device into his pocket, wallet following on the other side— his gun is tucked in his belt safely.

“Babe?” Hongbin’s voice murmurs from the other side of the apartment, squinting towards Jaehwan’s direction with bleary eyes. He shifts on the bed, pushing himself off the mattress and realizing that the blanket is gone. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I’ll just step out to the corner store real quick,” Jaehwan promises, walking up to the feet of the bed and kneeling onto the edge of the mattress with a huff. He brackets Hongbin’s legs, and starts climbing towards the other.

“At…” Hongbin starts, taking a quick glance at the digital clock on a nearby shelf, “three in the morning?” he rasps in disbelief, but Jaehwan hushes him with a quick peck to his lips.

Jaehwan shrugs when he backs away, just a little bit, and stares at the flashing colors in Hongbin’s eyes. “Was craving some ice cream.”

Hongbin lets out an airy laugh, letting his head fall back onto the pillow, burrowing himself in.

“Oh, you silly,” he chuckles as he snakes an arm around Jaehwan’s shoulder to pull him down for a kiss— deeper, slower and lazier as Hongbin is still not completely awake. “Buy me some too.”

“At your service,” Jaehwan murmurs into Hongbin’s lips, not wanting to let go— he leaves fleeting kisses on Hongbin’s mouth before tearing himself away from the sudden pleasure pulling him towards the bed.

“Don’t stay out for too long,” Hongbin says softly, and turns onto his stomach, hugging the pillow and pulling up one of his knees. Jaehwan leans down to pick the blanket from the floor, and drapes it over Hongbin’s outstretched leg.

Walking out, he locks the door, and checks the magazine in the gun to see if it’s full. He takes the safety off, and makes his way towards to elevator with Hongbin’s kiss still tingling on his lips.

Jaehwan likes the flashing, obnoxious neon colors better than the crimson of blood on his hands, and the way it sticks to the white sink, flowing down through the drain as he washes his hands— he prefers Hongbin’s soft snores to the cracking of spine when he twists a neck, and the sound the muffler on his gun gives out when he fires a bullet through a skull, brain matter splattering against the elevator’s walls that Jaehwan cleans off with spit and a dead man’s shirt.

But alas, one Jaehwan cannot live without the other, forever shackled by his love for the man in his bed, and all the blood that has ever dried on his hands.

He just wishes one would never discolor the other.

 


End file.
